


Cuddles with the Devil

by RebaK1tten



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash, Werewolf Hunters, Yes that Garth, everyone's alive!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-16
Updated: 2014-09-16
Packaged: 2018-02-17 16:54:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2316737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebaK1tten/pseuds/RebaK1tten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a tumblr prompt from randomfandomtalkandotherthoughts - • Stiles and Peter are kidnapped by a group of hunters. Struggling to survive they find comfort in unexpected ways.</p>
<p>No porn, sorry, went pre-slash. Cause if they were together, Peter wouldn't let them get kidnapped!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cuddles with the Devil

Peter wakes up with a headache, which is the first clue that something’s wrong. The second clue is the tight metal collar around his neck, and the chain that keeps him tethered to the wall and makes him unable to shift.  He’s got about six feet of chain, about enough to get halfway across the room and enough to lie down against the wall.

He’s got no memory of how he got here, alone in what appears to be a basement, but the headache would seem to indicate a healthy dose of wolfsbane sometime recently.  And with the blood on his shirt and the hole in it, it looks like he was hit with an arrow; at least there’s no wolfsbane on that.   

As he’s looking around, trying to remember how he got there, the door opens and Stiles is shoved in the room, followed by an angry looking man and woman. They both smell of wolfsbane and gun powder and anger. Stiles’ scent is anger, confusion and a too-strong scent of pain.

“This one refuses to talk, so how about you, doggie?  Tell us where he is and we’ll let the boy go and kill you quickly,” the woman says.

“I told you, we don’t know who the fuck you’re talking about,” Stiles says and is rewarded by a hard slap to the face that sends him flailing back into Peter’s chest.

Peter grabs him and puts Stiles on the ground as gently as he can without turning his back on their captures. “Who are you looking for?” He hopes it’s not Derek; Derek doesn’t need this again. Most anyone else in the pack, he’ll give up readily. Hell, if they want Scott, he’ll give them his work and home address, phone numbers and laptop password.

“You know, dog,” the man spits, “Garth Fitzgerald. He was a hunter and one of you dogs bit him.”

“Apparently, they assume that we have a directory of every hunter and werewolf in the country,” Stiles explains, and then spits some blood on the floor.

“We’ve never heard of him. I have no love for hunters or other packs; if I knew him, I’d tell you.”

Stiles doesn’t bother to open his unbruised eye when he nods, saying, “Trust him on that, he’d betray his own pack. He’s not lying to protect some other pack.”

“We’ll let you two think a bit more, maybe this will help you remember,” the woman says and aims her gun at Stiles. Peter jumps in front of him and roars as the bullet goes through his thigh, shifting involuntarily. The collar cuts off his breathing and he falls to the floor in front of Stiles, one hand to his neck and the other on his leg.  “At least your dog is loyal,” she says to Stiles as she backs out of the room.

“Peter, are you okay?” Stiles asks, moving towards the wolf.

Peter coughs and leans against the wall next to Stiles, pulling Stiles next to him. “I’ll be okay, have to remember to control myself at least for now. Later, however, I get to rip them both apart.”

“Absolutely works for me,” Stiles says. “Your leg okay? It wasn’t wolfsbane, was it?”

Peter shakes his head and looks at his leg, where he’s already healing. It’s slower than normal, but it is healing. “No, it went right through and was just a regular bullet. Which is a little concerning, meaning they don’t want to kill us, at least not yet.”

“They want information on that Garth guy. The woman said he was turned by a werewolf and they’re trying to find him. I think they’ll kill him if they do.” Stiles speech is a little slurred, probably due to his swollen lip. 

“Hunters and their high moral ground,” Peter says.  He turns to Stiles and gently takes his chin, turning his head to look at Stiles’ bruises. “They think anyone bitten should kill themselves. They probably want him so they can kill him, without knowing what kind of a werewolf he is.” He cups his hand on Stiles’ face and Stiles can see the black veins go slowly up Peter’s arm.

“Thanks. Is that hurting you, you can still do that?” he asks, watching Peter carefully.

“I’m fine,” Peter says.

Stiles notes a bit of sweat on his forehead and his mouth is set in a firm line. “No, that’s hurting you; you shouldn’t do that with the wolfsbane in the air and…” he tries to move Peter’s hand and Peter grabs his wrist firmly.

“Be still, Stiles, it’s faster. And you need to be feeling well for when we escape.”

It does feel better, both Peter’s hand on his face and his other grasping Stiles’ wrist.  “At least there’s no car batteries or electric generators down here. And escape sounds good. You have a plan?” He shuts his eyes and tries to relax, leaning slightly into Peter’s palm.

“Well I know it ends with my pulling their lungs out through their mouths. I’m a little stuck on the rest of it though.”

“Good ending,” Stiles chuckles and then gasps, grabbing his side, sweat suddenly covering his face. “Um, I think I may have a cracked rib, no more breathing for me.”

Peter studies him for a minute and then gently turns Stiles and pulls his back up against his chest, wrapping his arms gently around him. His hand rests on Stiles’s ribs and Peter starts pulling the pain out from there as well. “You’re freezing as well. The wolfsbane shouldn’t affect you, but beating the snot out of you and having you sit on this cold concrete isn’t good for you.”

It must be because he’s tired and in pain and just a little bit scared, but Stiles gradually leans his head back, resting on Peter’s shoulder. “You’re being frighteningly nice to me. I guess when we get out this will be our little secret?”

Peter rubs a nose through Stiles’ hair and Stiles can feel his grin. “I told you years ago, Stiles, I like you. I don’t care who knows.”

Maybe it’s a stupid thing to do, but this is the first time Stiles’ has felt at all safe since his car was run off the road. So he relaxes into Peter and dozes off.

 

“Stiles. Stiles, wake up,” Peter whispers in his ear.

Stiles jerks awake, Peter’s arms around him preventing him from bolting upright. “What? What’s going on?”

Peter loosens his hold on Stiles, but doesn’t quite let go and whispers, “The air’s off, there’s no more wolfsbane coming in.”

“Is the air off, is there oxygen? I was joking about not breathing,” Stiles twists around to look at Peter and then grimacing when he remembers his rib.

“Be still,” Peter hisses in his ear and gently moves Stiles off his lap. “There’s oxygen enough for a while. There’s no new wolfsbane, but it’s not clearing out very quickly. And I hear someone coming.”

Peter stands quickly, legs feeling a bit more stable under him. He stands in front of Stiles in a crouch waiting for whoever is coming into the room.  Suddenly they both hear screams and gunshots out in the hall and in the next minute, the door’s flung open and Chris, Derek and Erica push their way inside.

“Hey, guys, how’s it hanging?” Erica calls out as she makes her way to Stiles, offering him a hand up.  “Been looking everywhere for you!”

Chris looks around the basement and sees a small window near the ceiling and breaks it out with the butt of his rifle.

“You okay, Peter?” Derek asks as he pulls the chain out of the wall and then uses both hands to break the padlock off the collar without hurting Peter’s neck.

Peter turns and sucks in some of the clean air. “I’ll be fine, but Stiles has broken ribs, he’ll need to go to the hospital.”

Derek nods and says, “Chris’ll take him. Let’s get you guys outside and into fresh air.”

“How’d you find us?” Stiles asks Erica as she puts an arm around him and helps him to the stairs. They step over the man’s body and Stiles sees the woman being dragged outside by Isaac as they leave.

She guides him towards Chris’ jeep and says, “Well Chris said that some hunters take over empty buildings, and god knows we’ve got enough of those. So my Boyd said maybe we could find buildings that are supposed to be empty but have electricity running. And Danny found three that still had electricity in them. And ta da!”

“It was a little scary for a minute; we went with ‘What would Stiles do?’ which honestly I don’t ever want to do again,” Isaac adds, but he’s grinning and drops his hand on Stiles’ shoulder as he drags the unconscious woman towards Lydia’s car. Towards the trunk.

Stiles looks over and sees Peter and Derek by the SUV.  Peter shakes his head and shifts to his scary-looking beta form for a few seconds and then shifts back with a smile.

“Come on, Stiles, we have to get you to the hospital, have you checked out.” Chris takes over from Erica steers him towards his car. He hands Stiles a phone and says, “Call your Dad, he’s at the station. He can meet us at the hospital. Then call Scott, he and the others are at the other two locations.”

“Okay, thanks, Mr. Argent,” he says, taking the phone. Then he stops and says, “Just one minute, okay?” Before Chris can reply, Stiles shuffles towards Peter, not too quickly, keeping a hand on his ribs.

“Hey, Peter,” Stiles says quietly, glancing at Derek who just shakes his head at them and walks away, pulling out his phone. “Umm… so thanks for taking care of me and stuff.”

“Of course, Stiles. It wasn’t as much as I would have liked, but I did my best.” Peter steps forward and cups his hand on the non-bruised side of Stiles’ face.

Stiles leans into Peter’s hand and shuts his eyes briefly. “It was what I needed, so thanks.” He looks over his shoulder at Chris standing by his jeep. “I gotta go, but anyway, wanted to say that.”

“Certainly, Stiles,” Peter says grinning.

Stiles walks away and looks back when he hears Derek say, “Peter, he’s eighteen!”

Peter shrugs at Derek and smiles at Stiles. He mimes holding a phone to his ear and mouths ‘Call me.’

Stiles carefully gets into the car and as they drive away, Chris says, “Really Stiles? Peter Hale?”

He shrugs and says, “The devil you know.” Then he calls his dad.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hello on [Tumblr](http://rebakitt3n.tumblr.com/)


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